Garden swings and strange routines
by Queen of Crack Pairings
Summary: When a certain black haired boy doesn't come home from work, Beat naturally gets a little worried. Scratch that, he gets paranoid. The garden swing routine's always worked before, hasn't it? Beat/Masuoka


The wind made his skin numb, but he still pushed himself forward on the swing. Cold, bitter wind piercing his tiger print vest and blowing leaves in his eyes. But he was waiting, had promised that he would and wouldn't break that promise.

Daisukenojo Bito was a man of his word. He'd sworn to wait, and so he would.

So he swung on the battered old swing and ignored the urge to shiver even, just so he'd focus on his main goal of waiting.

Who was he waiting for? A certain shop keeper named HT Masuoka. It was a blustery day, and he was always so worried about the little black haired boy in cold weather. Beat always said he was the sort to float away on the wind (in a much less poetic way). Add to that a low tolerance for low temperatures, and Masuoka would be absolutely lost in this sort of weather. So the blond always waited for him to come home from work. If he didn't, then Beat would trace the black haired boy's usual route through Shibuya so that he could make sure the shop keeper was alright. But that was just the last resort, emergency procedure, to be done if Masuoka hadn't come home or called by ten. He got so worried sometimes, though…

But Masuoka usually came home safe and sound. So Beat kept waiting, convinced that the only thing keeping the boy from an untimely demise was the charm of his routine. As long as he waiting, Masuoka would come home. They'd drink tea, Beat would bring out the feather blanket, and they would sit and watch television as the smaller boy thawed beneath the wondrous warmth of the coverlet.

So Beat swung, ignoring the wind's chill so that Masuoka would return safely. He kept an eye out for the massive, fluffy, blue hoodie that Shiki and Eri had designed for their friend's boyfriend, feeling unease tug at the back of his throat and tighten it.

"Yo, he better be aight…Else I'ma hafta go look for him…" muttered the skater angrily, though he was just trying to get rid of the worry that consumed him as it got darker and darker without any sign of the black haired boy or his distinctive piece of clothing.

The phone rang inside their tiny little house, and Beat paused. Should he risk breaking the charm to answer it, or could it be Masuoka ringing to say he was staying at Makoto's or Aily's? These days it wasn't so uncommon…But he usually rang earlier than this.

Sighing as he rubbed his dry eyes, the blond wandered inside and picked up the phone. "Yo. Hey Phones. Naw, you jus' caught me while I was waitin' for Hii to come home. Yeah, I know. He usually finishes work at four or somethin', but he ain't home yet. You ain't seen him? If you do, lemme know. He might stay at someone else's place 'cause it's so freezin' an' he hates tha cold. Damnit Phones, I'm not worried! Who said you could laugh at me?! …Aight, I'll try ta remember Shiki's present, yo. Yeah, we're gonna go get one tomorrow, me an' Hii. Yeah, aight…Seeya in a few days."

The unease nearly choked him now. He couldn't stand this. What was keeping Masuoka so long at work? And why the hell hadn't he been told?

Beat trotted back out to the swing and resumed his little ritual.

As a result of this, he missed another two phone calls (on his mobile phone, so they were a lot quieter than the house phone) and a news report that he might've wanted to watch. After all, it mentioned one teenage male had been mugged and left for dead in Dogenzaka. The police were frantically searching for his family or friends, someone to identify this poor, beaten boy. And perhaps Beat could help, perhaps he couldn't. He never knew, because he was so dedicated to his routine, longing for Masuoka to come home and give him that sweet smile, that he missed it all.

At about eight that night, Beat wandered inside, nearly ready to vomit with the panicky fear whirling in his stomach. And he noticed his mobile, sitting on the dining room table and glowing, like it always did when he got missed calls.

Grinning, he flipped the phone open and nearly broke it with his vigour.

"Please let 'em be from Hii, please…" he chanted as he searched for the Recent Calls part and opened it. "Hey, there's one! Thank you God! Hey, they both from Hii. Should call 'im back so he don't get all worried."

The blond couldn't stop grinning as he dialled Masuoka's number. When it picked up, he started babbling about how worried he was and how he'd waited outside until eight. The deep voice that answered him gave him quite the shock.

"Do you know the owner of this phone very well?" asked the voice, and Beat was shaking with rage. Who the hell was this prick? And what the hell was he doing with Masuoka's phone?

"Yo, Iunno who you are, but you better give Hii back his phone, aight? So I can tell 'im I been waitin' for ages an' I didn't mean ta miss his calls. But give it back ta him!" the blond snapped, his knuckles showing white around the poor mobile.

"Is that the name of the boy who owns this phone? Hii?" the voice responded, still calm and collected. "See if he responds to that name."

"What? Yo, he ain't here! He's wit'chu…Isn't he?" Beat said slowly. Something about this whole situation was off, but he didn't know what. Why had this jerk's voice gone fainter just then? Was he talking to someone in the background?

"Is your name Beat, sir?"

"Yeah, why? Where's Hii? Wha's goin' on?!"

"I am PC Baisho. I think you should come meet me at the hospital. You see, there's been a…"

Beat didn't hear anything after that. It's a bit hard to hear when the phone is on the floor and you're not, after all.


End file.
